


Holiday Light

by Nadare



Series: Connor's First [9]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, Detroit Events, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Gift Exchange, Holidays, Light Angst, M/M, Mistletoe, Post-Canon, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:46:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28119402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadare/pseuds/Nadare
Summary: Leaving the room momentarily, Hank returned clutching a box wrapped up in brilliant red and white paper. He held it out towards Connor with a touch of nervousness. “Here, Connor.”Connor stood up and blinked at him, mutely taking the gift. “But Christmas isn't until tomorrow.”“Just open the damn thing already.”
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Series: Connor's First [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1107594
Comments: 10
Kudos: 43
Collections: AO3 Haven Facebook December Challenge: Holidays Smutmas Awareness and Prevention 2020





	Holiday Light

**Author's Note:**

> While familiarity with the previous parts helps, this can be read as a standalone story.

**_“Holiday Light”_ **

“This is a nightmare,” Hank muttered beside him, Connor glancing at him in the passenger seat. The road they were driving on was packed with cars, all looking for the same thing: a parking space.

It was November 22th in downtown Detroit and though they had come as early as they could, it hadn’t been enough. Everyone else had had the same idea. The situation was made all the worse by numerous road closures.

“Captain Fowler let us off work as soon as he could,” Connor replied, turning right when the traffic light allowed him to do so.

“Ugh, this is why I hate living in the city sometimes. Too many people.”

Connor flung his mental net out, seeking out any parking garages that still had free spaces. The machines that kept such tallies were ridiculously easy to connect to, even from far away.

Alighting on one a few blocks away, carefully monitoring the situation, Connor drove there as fast as he could, initiating a more aggressive driving style that had Hank reaching for the grab handle on the inside of the car more than a few times.

“In a hurry?”

Connor shot him a smile as he navigated to the parking garage, flipping into the entrance and cutting off another car that had been waiting to turn into it.

Refusing to feel bad about utilizing his advantages in life, Connor grabbed the parking ticket from the machine and watched the number of available spaces go from one to zero.

Hank chuckled. “You can bet the guy behind us is cursing a blue streak.”

“There are more spaces further on down the street.”

The only available space was tucked into a corner on the top level of the parking garage, Connor sliding into it easily. As Hank grabbed his winter hat, a black cashmere beanie, Connor shut the engine off. “Thank you for indulging me tonight.”

Hank eyed him. “You rarely ask for anything. If you want to go stand in a crowd of strangers to watch someone flip on Christmas decorations, who am I to deny you?”

“It’s a bit more than that, but I appreciate your participation all the same,” Connor replied, coming to stand outside of the car. He pulled his own winter gear on, making sure his coat was zipped up properly. Connor might have had less to worry about than a regular human but that didn’t mean prolonged exposure to the cold wouldn’t adversely affect his system.

There had been a cold snap a few days ago and already the temperature was in the mid-20s with snow predicted to fall throughout the coming week.

Nodding his silent approval at Connor’s bundled-up state, Hank said, “Cook me a Thanksgiving feast in return and we’re all good.”

“I believe I can easily provide that. At least it will be better than the TV dinner you made last year.” Connor hadn’t been sure how far he could go back then, leaving him alone for the most part unless Hank expressed interest in spending time with him.

Though it had been a slow gradual process that allowed Connor to fully share in Hank’s life, he didn’t regret the time and effort he’d dedicated to the task.

“Eh, it fit the bill.”

Connor looked to the man walking at his side as they left the parking garage behind them. Hank’s health and diet had vastly improved thanks to Connor, which in turn made his general attitude and work regiment better.

Smiling, he looked ahead at the blue and white lights lining the trees near the edges of the street, storefronts with Christmas décor proudly displayed in a bid to entice potential customers. Banners on lamp posts advertised the 35th tree lightning event as he and Hank got closer to Campus Martius Park.

Smack dab in the middle of the city, the park was one of the lone bits of greenery within the concrete jungle. With the streets closed off around the area, residents were out in full force enjoying the winter evening. Two restaurants of notoriety were nearby, those seated outdoors close to tall roaring patio heaters, keeping them warm. 

Silver lights laced the army of strategically placed trees around them as they entered the park using the main path. Photo opportunities in the shape of holiday wooden cut-outs and giant lit letters bearing the city’s name seemed to lure many a person to them. 

Traversing further, the skating rink loomed ahead at the park’s center, the massive Norwegian Spruce tree behind it situated on top of the fountain something to behold even in the twilight. Its numerous decorations would remain dark until the event officially kicked off. 

With the tree lighting ceremony drawing close to 100,00 people annually, it was already crowded and would become difficult to navigate all too soon. 

Connor paused before the rink, watching the skating figures as they glided across the ice. He’d never tried it but thought it looked like a fun pastime. He glanced at Hank who looked on the scene with what appeared to be melancholy.

“Erin and I brought Cole here once,” Hank said softly. He pointed to a bench across the way where people were lacing up ice skates on their feet. “He fell a lot but had a great time anyway. Total champ.”

Since meeting Hank’s ex and viewing photos of the man’s past, allowing Connor to get closer to him a little bit, Hank had been more forthcoming about his memories of late. It made a nice change from his former stonewalling on the subject.

Connor leaned onto the rink railing. “I would’ve loved to have met him.” It was something he’d never voiced yet thought dozens of times. “Do you think he would have liked me?”

His eyes shifting over to Connor, humor in them, Hank smirked. “That kid was a sci-fi junkie, you would’ve been the best thing ever to Cole.” 

While he appreciated the revelation, it also made Connor sad knowing they would have gotten along had Cole lived. Forcing himself to lift one corner of his mouth to soften the maudlin mood, Connor gestured to the skating rink. “Would you be interested in coming back with me another time? I’d like to try it.”

“Sure,” Hank replied lightly. “I wasn’t too rusty at it last time. It’d be fun.”

Someone walked by them holding a paper tray of tacos loaded with a variety of toppings. Hank turned in the direction they had come from where a dozen or so food trucks were parked, hawking their wares. Already lines of people waited to put in their orders.

Not having had a chance to stop and pick up dinner anywhere since they’d come straight to work, Connor straightened from his position on the railing. “I can secure us a place if you wish to peruse their offerings.”

Hank clapped his shoulder in silent gratitude, then wandered off towards the food trucks.

Twenty minutes later, Hank joined him in a corner of the park which was somewhat close to the water fountain that surrounded the tall Christmas tree. The dish he’d retrieved was poutine, thick-cut French fries covered in cheese curds and brown gravy. Bacon bits, green onions, and a bit of sour cream rested atop it as well.

Rather than mention how unhealthy it was, French fries being high in fat, refined carbs, and salt, Connor focused on the far right where a stage had been constructed. Two news presenters stood at the ready behind a mic stand, the air rising high in energy as the main event was poised to begin in exactly ten minutes’ time.

“I’ll eat a salad tomorrow, okay?” Hank said defensively, digging into the poutine with relish, his fork full.

Connor raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Had he really become that easy to read? Oddly pleased with the development, Connor settled in to wait, Hank quickly finishing his meal. He chucked the empty tray into the trash just as the lamp posts around the park began to darken while the lights on the stage brightened.

“Welcome one and all to the yearly tree lighting ceremony. We're thankful every year that you come out and make us part of your holiday season,” the jolly male presenter said, a cheer going through the crowd at the words. 

His female counterpart stepped up beside him. “Without further ado, let’s get this done, shall we?” 

A familiar popular figure in a bright red suit took the switch device from one of the presenters, the kids in the crowd gasping and pointing at Santa Claus.

People enclosed them on all sides to get a closer look, a couple of kids on their parents' shoulders right next to Connor and Hank.

Those on the skating rink had stopped, coming towards the edge of the rink, eyes fixed on Saint Nick on the stage, their hand prepared to flip the switch that would turn the ordinary tree in the center of the square into the main attraction.

“I hate the fact it's so crowded but it's nice to see everyone come together like this.”

Connor smiled. That was one thing he'd learned about Hank early on, that despite how much of a misanthrope he claimed to be, once Hank was out and about in public, he did enjoy himself. Truth be told, Connor thought Hank was only socially selectively, purposely keeping those who knew his true self small.

“And it only takes the holiday season to do it.”

Someone pushed in behind him and Connor was abruptly in Hank's personal space. “Sorry.”

Hank grumbled, putting his arm around Connor's waist when he tried to move away, not wanting to crowd Hank. “It's okay, stay close.”

The warmth from Hank's body steeped through Connor's back, a comforting touch amongst the crowd. He swallowed nervously. “Are you certain?”

The last time Hank had initiated a PDA in public they had been far from Detroit, away from any prying eyes that may have known them.

“No one’s going to notice,” Hank reassured him while Connor’s chest ached, so proud that Hank had come this far with him. Perhaps someday he'd be open to letting those at the precinct know too.

Hank motioned to the stage. “Hey, stop looking at me and pay attention, the fat man’s about to do his thing.”

“R-Right.”

The switch was hit among excited fanfare.

Out of the darkness, the 65-foot tree lit up, casting a soft glow onto the faces of the crowd, every single inch of it covered in decorations. Colorful lights strings, garlands, tinsel, and glass bulbs; at the very top was a large star topper, shining brightly.

Meanwhile, cheery Christmas music poured out of speakers attached to lamp posts overhead courtesy of a choir Connor had seen situated at the other stage of the park.

It was a beautiful sight, a true testament to the pride of the city. A symbol that would remain active until January 15th so plenty of city-goers and visitors alike could see it during the holiday season.

Hank rested his chin on the back of Connor’s shoulder for a moment. “You’d think living in Detroit my whole life, I would have done this before now. Thanks for dragging me out here, Connor.”

Resisting the impulse to lean back and draw any further attention to themselves, Connor could only smile. “You’re very welcome.”

* * *

**December 4th**

There wasn’t much of interest out in the garage connected to Hank’s house beyond a water heater, water softener, and a washer and dryer unit, which had been the main reason for Connor to enter it that afternoon.

Dumping a load into the washer, Connor put in the recommended amount of laundry detergent and closed the lid. As the water began rushing into the machine to soak the clothes, he turned and started for the door that led back indoors when one of the cardboard boxes stored in the far corner suddenly fell onto its side.

Something metal rolled across the length of the floor and Connor stepped into the object’s path to stop it. His curiosity piqued, Connor knelt down and picked it up, the cold feel of the gold bell within his fingers making him shiver for a second.

It had clearly been part of another piece, a loose red ribbon tied to the top of it.

Tucking it into his pocket, Connor went for the box that had fallen.

When he’d asked Hank about the boxes in storage before, he’d been evasive, saying it was just old junk. Things that held no importance.

Connor righted the fallen box, he pulled open the flaps and stared at the contents within it. Garlands, ornaments, and strings of lights, all roughly shoved together with bunched up pieces of newspaper.

Leaving the box where it laid, Connor moved onto the one next to it, this one containing three separate parts of a tall artificial Christmas tree, its limbs warped and bent.

Hank had made no mention of doing anything for the upcoming holiday. Already there was a layer of snow outside if a little thin due to being early in the winter season.

Despite his disdain for Christmas being shoved in people’s faces far too early, Hank had never outright stated he hated it. He’d even gone with Connor to the tree lighting ceremony without issue.

Perhaps instead of gathering dust out in the garage, the festive items could find better use indoors displayed in a matter befitting them.

Resolving to act later in the month, Connor placed the boxes back where they belonged.

He looked forward to seeing Hank’s reaction.

* * *

**One Week Later**

While Hank was out having dinner with Jeffrey, Connor quickly got to work implementing his plan.

He brought all the Christmas boxes in from the garage, organizing each item by category to make their presentation later simpler.

The tree was the easiest, Connor placing it against the living room wall. The rest of the decorations were a matter of maximizing impact and placement while forming a cohesive whole. Connor spent a good half hour on the task, using trial and error until he was satisfied.

With the last step merely plugging in the lights, Connor did so and stepped back to survey his work. There had been many personalized ornaments and he made sure to keep them near the front of the tree.

The stage was set, now he merely had to wait for Hank’s arrival. 

“How was the Captain?” Connor asked as he opened the front door an hour later.

Hank stomped his feet on the doormat, displacing the snow that had taken up residence on the bottom of his boots. “Bitching about having to drive down to Florida this Christmas. But if he refuses, his wife will never let him hear the end of it.”

“Between a rock and a hard place then,” Connor replied, the start of butterflies in his stomach.

Shrugging off his coat, Hank looked up as Connor closed the door behind him. “Yeah, no kidd…”

Hank went still, his eyes roving over the decorated tree situated a few feet from him, the colorful garlands lacing the window ledges, even the little pair of antlers atop Sumo's head.

For a few minutes, as Connor fidgeted, he gave no outward reaction at all, then suddenly went for the kitchen. Hank grabbed the bottle of scotch from one of the cabinets and a glass, pouring himself a large double.

Confused, wondering if he'd been utterly off-base about his partner's feelings about Christmas, Connor approached Hank.

“Is it too much? I just thought given the season it was only appropriate to decorate accordingly, especially since you had most everything already.

“After all, last year there was no opportunity to celebrate the holidays with the android transition in place. There was far too much to do.”

Hank downed most of the contents of the glass before he looked at Connor, his brow furrowed. “Take it all down.” His voice was rough, then Hank added more gently, “Please.”

“Do you not like it?”

There was hard flint in Hank’s eyes now. “I had all this shit stored in the garage for a reason, Connor.”

“And that is?”

Hank emptied the rest of his drink, turning to put it into the sink. “Christmas was a huge holiday for my family.” He swallowed the visible lump in his throat. “Cole in particular loved it…seeing his handmade ornaments on the tree is like a stab in the heart.”

The bottom of his stomach one hard knot, Connor felt truly awful at his part in causing Hank undue grief. He wished he’d left the Christmas decorations alone. 

“That’s why I can't do it,” Hank announced, turning back towards the festive display Connor had put together while he’d been away.

“What?” Connor replied, sick with the knowledge his whole endeavor had been a dismal failure.

Hank locked eyes with him, so much heartache in them it was nearly palpable. “My old Christmas."

Cole and Erin’s.

His shoulders falling in defeat, Connor moved towards the tree, prepared to box everything away again.

“But I can do _ours_.”

Connor looked back towards Hank in surprise, a jolt razing through his system as he replayed the loaded statement a few times to make certain he'd heard correctly.

The thought of making their own traditions, picking decorations, and everything else….it said a lot about Hank's feelings towards Connor that he was willing to reacquaint himself with a holiday that had been previously brought him nothing but pain for the last four years.

Sweeping back across the room, Connor took Hank's hand in his. “I'd like that very much, Hank.” His partner's face slightly flushed, showing it had taken some embarrassment and bravery to say what he had.

Connor pointed above them at the sprig of red and green hanging from the light fixture. “We can start one new tradition already.”

Hank’s eyes flicked up and he bit off a laugh. “I know artificial mistletoe wasn’t in any of the boxes. When did you buy that?”

“Not everything is old,” Connor replied. “I had to replace a few bits and bobs that had fallen into disrepair. Do you wish me to remove the new decorations too?”

“Those can stay.” Hank abruptly pulled Connor's hand, yanking him close enough that Hank could meet Connor's mouth with his own in a soft kiss that spoke of warmth and home.

It was bittersweet as well because Connor knew no kiss that came in the coming years would be the same, nor have a similar impact and feeling behind it.

Still, kissing under the mistletoe was a pleasant experience overall.

As they parted, Connor said, “I made some homemade eggnog earlier. Spiked with rum, of course. Any interest in partaking in it?”

Hank squeezed Connor's hand, then let it go. “You bet your ass.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Connor snapped, a moment passing before Hank started laughing as Connor wandered into the kitchen.

Going for a seat at the table, Hank winked at Connor. “I wouldn’t either.”

* * *

**December 24th**

“This is not the movie I expected to watch on Christmas Eve with you,” Connor said quietly from his seat on the couch, nestled underneath a blanket next to Hank.

Hank glanced at him. “Why not? it’s iconic. I used to watch this every year during the holidays when I was a kid.”

Connor pointed to the screen. “These men, while robbers, do not deserve to be tortured as much as they are. Not to mention, they would not survive most of their injuries. The paint cans alone wou-“

“Connor,” Hank stated firmly before taking a deep breath. “If you can suspend your sense of disbelief over the James Bond movies, you should be able to do the same for _Home Alone_.”

He hated to admit it, but Hank had a point. Connor tampered down any of his other reservations and allowed himself to enjoy what was unfolding on the TV screen, Hank’s frequent bouts of laughter beside him heartening. It was clear the film was a fond favorite of his.

As the credits rolled after everything reached an enjoyable conclusion, Hank stood up from the couch. He waved Connor down when he went to follow. “You know, you weren’t the only one plotting stuff this month.”

“No?”

Leaving the room momentarily, Hank returned clutching a box wrapped up in brilliant red and white paper. He held it out towards Connor with a touch of nervousness. “Here, Connor.”

Connor stood up and blinked at him, mutely taking the gift. “But Christmas isn't until tomorrow.”

“Just open the damn thing already.”

Heeding the suggestion, Connor slid his fingers into one end of the present and ripped into it. He pulled at the paper, finding that it concealed a plain brown box.

It was heavy, Connor taking care in removing the single piece of tape that kept the two flaps of the box closed.

Once he'd opened it, he peered down into it, then looked up at Hank in disbelief. “But you seemed so ambivalent about the idea of starting a photo album when I asked.”

“Yeah, well, I was kind of distracted then,” Hank said. “But it was a good idea the more I thought about it. I mean, I don’t really have any good pictures of Sumo.”

Connor took the instant Polaroid camera out of the box, placing it aside, and turned it on, the whine of the motor quiet for what it was. That answered the question as to whether or not it worked.

“Does it have any film?”

Hank nodded, watching Connor angle the camera at the far corner where Sumo slept peacefully. He pressed the shutter, a bright flash proceeding briefly, and almost instantly the camera spat out a white and black square.

Gently yanking it out of the small opening, Connor and Hank peered down at the photo as it slowly developed, shapes and colors making themselves known.

“You should shake it,” Hank said, reaching out for it. “It'll go faster.”

Connor shook his head. “Actually, that's a myth which does more harm than good to such pictures.”

“All right, have it your way. Ah, there we go.”

Sumo's sleepy face came into being as the photo subject himself lazily looked up at them from his bed. Deciding it wasn’t worth the effort to investigate, he huffed and put his head back down.

Connor laid the photo and camera down and reached out and hugged Hank who laced his arms around Connor in return.

Hank's beard was scratchy against his cheek, but Connor didn’t mind. “It's perfect. Thank you.”

“Good, I'm glad you like it.” Hank pulled back, keeping one hand on Connor's hip. “Just promise me that you won’t go all crazy with photos, yeah?”

Connor smiled. “I'll do my best to be discrete about it.”

“Good because there's an empty photo album underneath the tree too and you should take your time filling it.”

He'd truly thought of everything. Little wonder Connor couldn’t walk away from Hank and their relationship.

Connor gave Hank a quick peck on the lips, grateful when he seemed to be expecting more from the action.

“Oh, and don’t bring the camera into the bedroom,” Hank added in a rush. “I know from experience that it's fun in theory but awkward and embarrassing in reality.”

Wondering about what he and Erin had gotten up during their marriage, Connor narrowed his brow. “You've always been very handsome to me. However, I will respect your wishes on the topic.

“So long as we’re exchanging gifts, I believe it’s my turn.” Connor walked towards the Christmas tree and grabbed his present for Hank, the wooden box that contained the item on the heavy side. He passed it to his partner who pulled off the wrapping paper in interest.

As the brand name etched into the long box was uncovered, the corners of Hank’s mouth slowly lifted. He gripped the bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label scotch whiskey from the silk lining surrounding it, its contents sloshing noisily before eventually settling.

“Connor, this is…” Hank trailed off, going speechless, eyeing the golden-brown liquid like it was gold.

Rushing to fill the pregnant silence, Connor said, “Captain Fowler was kind enough to grant me some assistance. If you look closer, there’s also a certificate of authenticity in the box.”

“Perfect,” Hank finally finished, then looked up at Connor. “This is expensive shit. Please tell me it didn’t set you back too much.”

The cost hadn’t been an important factor in Connor’s mind when he purchased the liquor, though he had made sure the price was what one would have paid on average. “Don’t worry about that, I’m merely pleased it meets your approval.”

Hank placed the whiskey bottle back into its box. “I promise I won’t waste a single drop.”

“Excellent.” There was also a set of granite chilling stones in another gift so Hank could drink the whiskey without any water diluting the taste but Connor would leave that for his partner to discover on Christmas day itself. “With that exchange done, I believe _Home Alone_ has a sequel if you wish to watch that as well.”

Hank grinned. “Up for more, huh? I knew there was a reason I liked keeping you around.”

There were a great many other reasons too, which both of them knew, yet they remained unvoiced for the time being.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> Are there any firsts you want to see Connor experience? Feel free to suggest them. In any case, part ten is coming soon! :)


End file.
